Ambasadora (Book 1 of Ambasadora) (8 page)

She flicked him in between the
eyes, the purse of her lips daring him to continue.

“All I meant was if I had
wanted a military woman as my prime, then I had lots—
a couple of—
opportunities
to do so.” He stroked her cheek, enjoying the feel of her soft skin.
“We’ll talk about this another time, I promise.” He leaned over and
kissed her until he could think of something else to talk about, wondering at
the morality of using his kiss as a distractor.

“Are you coming with me to the
Hub to pick up our ambasadora today?” he asked. Mari was always ready to venture
off the ship.

When her mouth became very small,
he knew this morning would end in a fight no matter what. “
Our
ambasadora?” she asked. “So, that’s it, isn’t it? You’re waiting for
a chance to snag a Face of the Embassy. Go ahead and deny it.” She sat up
and folded her arms over her bare breasts.

David caressed her thigh under
the duvet, hoping to soothe her a bit. “Mari, you’re making me crazy with your
jealousy.”

“So, you aren’t going to
deny it?”

She hadn’t heard a thing he said.
He rested his head against her leg in defeat. “Deny what, Mari? Deny
what!” This just reinforced his earlier opinion that she was too young for
him. Dealing with a nineteen year-old’s insecurities frustrated him, but it
also made him feel alive in a way even combat hadn’t. Each day he stayed with
Mari, he came closer to reconciling those opposites. Even with today’s fight,
he favored feeling alive.

“I need to go,” she
said. “I promised Geir I’d help him with the mid-day meal.” She rolled
out of the duvet and away from David, a little pout on her thin lips. It was
petulant, but arousing.

“Mari.”

She walked over to the chair
where her clothes lay. David forgot their fight as he watched her slip on her
little mauve top and shorts while she hummed some song he had never heard
before.

“Mari.”

When she pulled on matching
thigh-high boots, he considered taking her back to bed, boots and all. She
might be a little short, but her legs were long, and those boots made them even
longer.

“Mari.”

She studied the line drawing on
the wall, trying to ignore him as he pulled on pants and a shirt, but he caught
her peeking at his body anyway. It was one of the things she liked best about
him. He walked over to her and hugged her from behind. She liked it when he
chased her after a fight, and he was usually happy to oblige her. He figured if
they parted on bad terms they might never find their way back to one another.

“So, we’ll talk about this
again in a while?” she asked.

“I promised we would, and I will
always keep my promises to you,” he said against the softness of her hair.
It smelled like a combination of her citrusy scentbots and the gentle floral shampoo
she favored.

She spun around in his arms, stood
on her tiptoes, and gave him a little peck on the lips. “You better,”
she said, and with that announcement, she was out the door.

David spoke into the empty room.
“I’d marry you tomorrow and start making babies if I thought it was the
best thing for you.” He was already sure it was the best thing for him.

This was why civilians irritated
David Anlow, especially scientists. You couldn’t just order them around—they
had
opinions
and wanted to debate every decision.

“So, it’s true. The Embassy
is forcing this woman on us even after our petitions to them state we don’t
have room for her?” Sean Cryer spoke from across the jadeite dining table.
He and David were the only ones standing, as if squaring off against one
another. Though larger than average, Sean’s frame couldn’t match David’s, but
the light from the curving sculpture lamp behind Sean made him look bigger.
And, the younger man had the presence and aggressive confidence of an Armadan,
which served to reaffirm a certain suspicion David had about Sean Cryer’s
ancestry. Of course, it was hard to tell how much of the attitude and bravado
came naturally and how much he garnered from the mind and mood-altering poisons
he swallowed, injected, or sniffed. Plus, Armadans could control their
confrontational impulses—Sean could not.

Everyone else watched intently
while enjoying their meal.

“I’m sure those petitions
you sent out were read by a sub-official, then filed away forever,” David
said. “Let’s try and make the most of this.”

“If the
Bard
keeps
gaining passengers, you might have enough for a squadron soon,” Geir Shang
said in jest. “Then it would be like you were navigating one of those big
Armada cruisers again, instead of piloting around a handful of scientists,
though I imagine we’re better looking and more fun.”

Odd that Geir would make a
military joke when he was an Armadan who had chosen a life of science over
joining the fleet. David had mixed feelings about Armadans like Geir mainly because
one of his brothers and his sister had taken the civilian route upon
graduation. Though not unique among Armadans, his siblings were the first in
the Anlow family circle to break tradition, and David, even though he left
service early, seemed to be the only one who had difficulty accepting their
choices.

Still, Geir had become a good
friend. The dark man would see things David’s way. He always did. David shoved
Geir’s booted foot out of his chair. It landed with a thud on the lilac and
blue swirl of the floor. “I’m not exactly thrilled with the idea of a new
body myself,” he admitted. “I’m still trying to get used to some of
you after three months.” He looked pointedly at Sean whose expression
dared him to say more.

If Sean hadn’t performed
technological miracles several times on this antiquated pleasure craft, David
would have petitioned to have him jettisoned into the deep dark weeks ago.

“Look,” David reasoned.
“We all knew this was coming. We’ve been preparing for it for almost a
month. There’s nothing we can do about it now.”

“Scientists need room for
their research,” Mari said. “We’re already sharing the public space
among the six of us.
Her
room was going to be a laboratory for Kenon and
Geir.”

David wanted to punch Sean in the
mouth for getting Mari worked up about this issue again. “Then why haven’t
they gotten around to using it all of these years? Or even within the months
since I got here?”

Sean jumped in again. “What
about all the rerouting? We’re expected to change all of our schedules to
accommodate her shopping trips and parties.”

“That’s not true.”

“So, we’re not
rerouting?” Sean asked.

Sean was shrewd. He knew the
answer already because he had confronted David about that very issue yesterday.
Now, he wanted the rest of the passengers to hear it.

“We’re tweaking the schedule
like we would for any of the rest of you, and not for shopping trips. She’s
new. We can be a little accommodating.”

Sean was relentless. “And
what about the next passenger they saddle us with? Because you know this is
just the beginning unless we show the Embassy we can’t
accommodate
any
more bodies on board. And, why would Prollixer want the
Bard
to carry a
diplomat anyway? Doesn’t make sense.” Sean’s features softened when
Solimar Robbins came through the door next to him and placed her palm against
his chest in greeting.

The mocha-skinned woman looked
every centimeter an Upper female in her navy, shape-hugging dress. She paused
in front of Sean, while he returned her greeting with a kiss to her forehead.
For someone who was supposedly so anti-establishment, the mech tech still followed
the dictates of polite society, even in the heat of an argument.

An argument that was a waste
of time
. David ran his hand over his face.

Sean, paranoid doser that he was,
acted as though the ambasadora’s presence was a personal affront to him, so had
asked these questions on a daily basis since word came down from the Embassy
last month. Now he wanted one more open forum.

To keep that from happening,
David said the same thing he had before. “It doesn’t matter
why
.
The Embassy owns the
Bard
. They say so, we do so.”

“Then Sean’s right?”
Geir asked, before taking a forkful of the casserole he and Mari had whipped up
for lunch.

“About what?” David
asked.

“That the Embassy can force
anyone or anything on us at any time and we have no say about it,” Sean
said. “How can that be okay with you?”

David looked around for support.
Nothing. Just a bunch of metal utensils dinging against finely crafted
dinnerware.

“It’s a simple
concept,” he said to no one in particular. “Yet, I’m the only one
getting it.”

Apparently not caring about
why
was blasphemy to a group of scientists. He would be glad to get off this frigid
ship and visit the Hub today.

“I’d like to think of this
as an opportunity.” Kenon Brudger spoke up.

David was pleasantly surprised;
the foppish geological observer disagreed with David almost as often as Sean
did.

“Finally a man of
reason,” David said.

Mari sniffed.

“Opportunity for you to snag
a new amour, you mean,” Sean said.

“If she finds me appealing,
I would welcome her,” Kenon said.

“Right into your bed.”
Geir slapped Kenon on the back, nearly sending the slight-framed man sliding
out of his chair.

As Kenon complained of a bruised
shoulder and indigestion, Sean slammed his palms on the table. Dishes jumped up
and landed with a crash.

David’s hands balled into fists.

“Easy, Sean. I feel like you
do,” Mari said. She reached a hand out and touched his arm. David didn’t
like it, but he kept his calm. He believed Sean when he said he and Mari were
only friends, but they had a history together that needled at David.

“Can’t the rest of you see
it’s just a way for the Embassy to control our independent operations
here?” Sean asked.

Geir laughed and wrapped a dark
arm around Sean’s shoulders. “That’s our Sean. Always thinking too
much.”

“Always paranoid,”
David said.

“Some of you aren’t thinking
enough.” Sean pushed off the dining table. “Kenon, transport leaves
in three minutes, with or without you.”

Part of David wanted to follow
Sean out of the room and settle this once and for all, but mostly he was just
glad to be rid of him for a while.

“We should call him
Sunshine. What do you think?” Geir laughed.

“That’s nicer than what I
call him,” David said.

“And nicer than what he
calls you.” Kenon stood up from the jadeite table.

“Really? What’s he call
me?”

The others looked at each other
and laughed, even Mari.

A beep sounded from David’s
reporter. “Now I’m late.”

“You better go.” Mari
cleared the dishes without looking up at him. “Wouldn’t want to make our
guest wait. She’s too important.” She walked over to give a departing kiss
on the cheek to Geir.

If that’s how Mari wanted to play
it, David could certainly hold out longer. “You’re right. She is pretty
important.” Mari’s head whipped around, but David wasn’t letting her off
the hook for siding with Sean.

“Ready, Soli?” David
made for their own planet side transport. He waited until he and Soli were out
of earshot of the others, then leaned over and asked, “So, what’s Sean
call me?”

Sean heard Giselle moaning as
soon as he and Kenon entered the rounded foyer.

Kenon slipped off his shoes and
moved quietly over the smoky-colored tiles toward the sitting room. “So
that’s why we had to let ourselves in. Obviously, Giselle didn’t want any
intrusions today, including from her own servants.”

Sean contemplated undoing the
series of snaps and fasteners holding his boots in place and decided the
servants would be back after Giselle’s tryst to clean up anyway. Still, he
walked stealthily after Kenon, who had paused in the foyer’s gallery to smile
at the latest vid of his daughter, Hailey. The six year-old spun around in a
circle, her long blonde curls bouncing on the sleeves of her baby blue dress.
He held out a hand as if to touch her face.

“This sweet child carries my
genes, my heart,” Kenon whispered.

“Yet, like every other Upper
Caste parent I know, you send your children off to nurseries, only to see them
a few times a year.”

Kenon didn’t seem to hear.
“Watch.” The little girl twirled in her holoscape again. She looked
just like Giselle with her heart-shaped face and upturned nose. Only her blue
eyes were unmistakably Kenon’s.

“
You
could have
probably done with a more proper education.” Kenon sniffed.

If only Kenon knew. Sean’s
childhood had all the proper education and etiquette, even having a Lower Caste
mother, but he saw no reason to practice good behavior when few Uppers around
him ever did. The system’s motto seemed to be that so long as the whole system
was aware that one
knew
better
, one never really had to
do
better
. He hated the hypocrisy. That’s why he left school at thirteen to
learn as much as he could about the V-side and join the fragger organization.
He wasn’t sure what would appall Kenon more, the fact that Sean was a halfcaste
or a fragger.

They followed the curve of the
white-walled gallery into Giselle’s sitting room. Tall-backed couches in lush
mauve patterns and dark wooden tables of assorted sizes separated them from the
large windows covering the far wall.

In the center of the tiled floor
lay a silver rug. On top of it Giselle straddled a man. She wore nothing but
the onyx necklace Kenon had given her for Hailey’s conception. He told Sean
he’d take him to the same jeweler for a good deal when the need to finally
marry stirred within him.